Habits
by Emily 'Gadget' Robins
Summary: Each member of the Task Force 141 follows a routine before, during, and after missions. After all, humans ARE creatures of habit and even these battle hardened soldiers aren't an exception. Some mild-moderate violence in future chapters. Please Review! 2
1. Preperations

**Before's, During's, & After's**

**3 weeks prior to MW2**

Humans are creatures of habit. This is a simple fact in day-to-day life. Schedules, routines, actions, even the things we say are all formed into habits. For a regular citizen this could be what time they get up and when they go to bed, or perhaps they bite their finger nails. It's just something that they do without thinking about it. This becomes clearer when one joins the army.

When a squad is going out on the mission, or returning from one, you can automatically tell by they way they behave or the things they do right away. Before a mission, some soldiers become jumpy or easily excitable, while others seek out secluded areas where they can think.

* * *

Archer was no different. Before a mission he could be found with his custom fit Barrett .50 cal sitting across his lap. The gun was his livelyhood and therefore his prized possession. He'd dissassemble it seamlessly, without hesitation or any signs of even thinking about the steps.

Then he'd clean each piece until the whole thing looked new.

Afterwards he'd snap it back together and check to make sure the shoulder brace that was made to fit against him exactly wasn't damaged. If he'd cleaned the gun only hours before finding out about a mission, he'd clean it again the same as always.

It was just what he'd find himself doing.

* * *

Now, don't assume all snipers have the same routine.

This isn't the case in the slightest. Toad, who was often partnered up with Archer on missions, was always found making a three minute personal call to America. It was always the same person on the other end of the line...His long-time girlfriend, Maureen. It would start and end the same way each time. She'd start off telling him how much she missed him and then he'd tell her how it was nearly Christmas (even if it were several months away) and then the conversation would just start up.

When he only had a moment or two left before hang up time she'd tell him to come back to her safe. He would just say, 'I love you' and hang up.

It was just what he did.

* * *

Toad wasn't the only one making calls.

Royce would call his wife Denise, Anna his four year old daughter, and his twin sons named Mark and Ian who were still unable to walk. First, he'd tell Denise that he would be perfectly fine, even though they both knew he didn't actually know for sure.

Then she'd hand the phone over to Anna. Anna would talk his ear off about all kinds of didn't bother him that he had no idea what she was talking about, in fact, he loved listening to her and trying to figure her out. Then she'd say, 'I miss you' and give the phone back to Denise.

The married couple would talk for four or five more minutes before saying their goodbyes.

That was natural.

* * *

Not everyone had family to talk to.

Worm's parents were 6 feet under and, being an only child, had never really had any other close family…other than his team. That's why on more than one occasion he found himself sitting with Gadget and Toad in the rec room, telling them stories and joking around. The three of them would spend anywhere from minutes to hours in there, laughing.

Worm could only imagine losing one of his friends, which was why he tried to spend time with them so often…Especially before a dangerous mission.

That was the familiar path to follow.

* * *

This didn't mean that Gadget didn't have her own routine.

If Worm or any of the other guys needed someone to vent to; she'd be there, ready to listen. But, when they were all busy or on leave or not even going on the mission with her she'd find herself getting antsy and jumpy.

Pacing circles around the corridors, roaming the outer perimeter, jogging on the roof of the main communications building, doing sit ups, walking back and forth through the grounds, she'd do _**anything **_to keep moving. It was like the anticipation was eating away at her nerves like acid, burning through to the very core of her being. Nothing would be able to hold her attention long enough for her to get it done.

That's how it was for her for 4 years.

Until an FNG named Roach joined up and gave her something else on her list of things to do.

She found him sitting in the rec room one day, an ear-bud in each ear and his eyes closed lazily as he bobbed his head along to the music. He'd only been with them for two weeks now, only four recons and a stealth mission, and yet the two had become fast friends. Being only 20, he was five and a half years younger than her and a lot less experienced, but he'd risen through the ranks quickly and was almost the same rank as her. She was kind of his teacher, giving him tips and helping him train. Like a kid brother.

Snatching one of the headphones away from him without asking, she listened to the song that was on. Roach's eyes snapped open and he looked up to see a very amused smile on her face. His own face turned beet red, as the song continued. 'Hardcore screamo, Roachie…?' She teased.

The red deepened as he nodded. Then, surprise replaced the embarrassment as she spoke the words to the next lyric along with the music. 'There's no time. If your decisions include regret, then it's already too late.' From then on when Gadget wasn't needed elsewhere she and Roach would rock out. He'd originally come up with the idea in his old squad.

It was empowering to listen to the crazy metal music and it pumped someone up a lot when they'd listen to it.

It became familiar and comfortable.

* * *

Not everyone in the 1-4-1 sought company.

Meat would plant himself in the weight room, lifting like crazy. Not enough to injure himself or wear himself out, but enough to need a lot of strength. With every lift he'd imagined lifting an injured teammate from the ground. Every time his arms would come back down he'd be trying not to hurt them any more than they already were. Then he'd go back for more. Lift, and back down, lift, and back down.

There was a simplistic pattern. A promise that came with each lift. There would always be a relax to follow. After every struggle there was a retreat. This wasn't always the case in battle, Meat knew that for certain. The pattern had stopped abruptly for his best friend back when he was only an FNG.

Poor kid was only 19 and was now six feet under.

There had been a long, harsh struggle…and no relax followed.

And Meat was left to think.

* * *

Ghost would also seek the solitude of his room before a mission.

Just to think and to mentally-prepare himself to take charge.

He'd always find himself lying on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling fan. Just enjoying the silence. Then the silence would be interrupted. A sudden blast of gunfire.

Then the silence would return, seeming to be thicker and more extreme type of silence. Again, another blast, growing from one gunshot to several all at once seeming to come from both near and far.

Then a pause. An explosion.

Pause. Helicopter propellors and screaming artillery.

A pause. A breaching charge clicking into place, mortar fire exploding around him, howling engines, shouts in foreign languages, more gunshots, a hand grenade clinking to the ground in front of him.

Another, more drawn out moment of pure, unshakable silence. The soft bleeping of an activated Semtex, the chink of a C4 detonator, the familiar metallic sliding sounds of opening a gun for a reload, shells scattering to the earth, footsteps on wooden floors, all of the sounds going off together, blurring into some sort of sick music, slowly fading into the desperate voice of someone shouting that they'd been hit… then the peaceful silence would come back into play as Ghost would shake himself back to reality.

He would blink and glance at the curtained window. The sounds weren't there… and yet somehow they were. Each one ingrained into his memory, they would always be there. The he would roll onto his side and chance a glance to the mirror, regretting the action immediately. It was always the same face looking back at him. The same eyes…the same scars…the same fear. Even though the years had changed his appearance drastically, he always seemed to look the same to himself.

Then he'd just roll over again and listen to the old sounds that weren't there.

* * *

Scarecrow would find himself in his bunk as well, reading the same book he'd read for the past four years.

Though he'd owned the leather bound thing for the longer part of his life-time he'd only brought it along because his girlfriend (now fiance) had encouraged him to. He hadn't even given it a second thought until Gadget had joined the 141. It was a Sunday morning when he found her in the kitchen, eyes glued to the pages of a dingy old book. He'd questioned her about it she'd just shrugged and said, 'It's something familiar in an ever-changing world.'

So he'd picked up his own copy and skimmed through it from cover to cover. Then he read what caught his eye. Then he read what was in the beginning. Then the middle and finally the end. He'd recognized some of the names and stories. It brought back old memories from happier, more peaceful times. It was familiar even in his new lifestyle, somethings he'd subconsciously carried in the back of his mind since childhood.

Who would've thought that the damaged old bible would become a part of his routine?

And yet, it did.

* * *

Mactavish would be reading too, none of it very familiar though.

He'd spend hours going over any and every file that he could get his hands on that applied to the future mission.

He'd tear through maps of the area and schematics of security systems. He'd memorize several emergency escape routes and backup plans. The names and faces of known alllies and infamous enemies. Ways of quickly getting transportation. Exit points. Secondary and emergency LZ's. ETAs from point to point. Places to find back-up weapons and extra supplies. All of it was stored in his seemingly never ending mind.

He spent extreme amounts of time or focus when it came to planning. All those years ago when he'd lost his team…his friends still weighed him down heavily with an unseen weight. Determined not to let it happen again the captain would spend all of his spare time finding out as much as he could.

It was all worth it when everyone would come back alive and still mostly unharmed.

* * *

**TAAA DAAAAAHHH! OH YEAH! I'M GOOD! **

**Already my next new story is a three-shot. **

**And, I need ideas for stories! Gimme 'em as you think of 'em and I'll see if they can help. Just one-shots and just rated T.**

**Please review :D **

**I loves reviews, I loves them good! **


	2. In the Fray

"You all right, Gadge?" Archer asked.

"Hmm?" She lifted her head suddenly to look at him from across the whirly bird.

"Awful quiet now are we?" He asked teasingly.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm always quiet before a mission." Her voice was still a little scratchy and low, since her vocal chords had never fully recovered from her torture days.

"Really, woman? We hadn't noticed." Meat chided sarcastically, earning a playful punch on the shoulder from the smaller soldier. "Not nice." He pouted.

She laughed as he rubbed his shoulder. "Four years and not once have you used either of my real names!"

"He doesn't call you Gadget?" Roach piped in. As the FNG he was still a little out of the loop. "What does he call you?"

"Woman, mamasita, Lucy, Lizzy, Louis, Lorianna," Frog started ticking off Meat's mock nic-names for Gadget on his fingers.

"Luretta, Lucky, Lou-anne…" Worm continued.

"You almost forgot Lora." Gadget pointed out, leaning back against the Helios's wall.

"Why all L's?" The youngest of the bunch asked curiously.

Meat grinned. "No-one will ever know." He added an evil laugh that caused the whole group to chuckle along. "I'll take that secret to the grave!"

"If you don't call me by my real name then you'll be arriving there even sooner!"

"As if you could kill me, Lacy!"

This was how it was before a mission. The group would be in whatever transportation that was taking them to wherever and talking about anything that came to mind. Since Roach joined up, it'd been a lot of re-runs of stories of past missions to bring him up to speed on the team's shenanigans.

While the time before leaving had been tense for all of them, the trip to the mission was a loose, almost happy stretch of time. The minutes seemed to fly by as they laughed and teased and play-argued.

Nobody voiced their fear of the unknown. Nobody mentioned how there may be some missing on the way home. For now, it was peace-time. No need for fear.

The conversation would continue, staying light-hearted and talking about their missions.

"You're kidding." Roach's mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide.

"Not at all." Royce shook his head, "Snatched up from her first mission and tortured. Didn't tell those druggies anything and ended up burning the place to the ground in a 'self-rescue' mission even when they had her so out of it she didn't know which way was up."

Roach looked to Gadget, face still alight with awe. "You never told me that."

She shrugged, fiddling nervously with her glock. "You never asked."

" All right, you yammering fools," Mactavish said with his Scottish accent clear as day. "Double and triple check your gear. Jump time four minutes."

"Goody." Scarecrow growled, lifting his SMG.

"Quit your whining and stay frosty." Ghost smirked behind his balaclava. "I hear the weather is nice this time of year."

Then they'd strap up. All of them would strap on parachutes, their guns, emergency packs, clips of ammo, grenades, and whatever else they'd need…along with the secret fears of losing someone close or even their own lives.

"2 minutes."

Ghost turned to face Gadget. She smiled weakly up at him, trying to avoid eye contact. This was normal behavior for her. Always so afraid that this would be the last time they'd see each other. Always so careful to hide the emotions that she thought would surely be the death of her.

Glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching before reaching down and taking her gloved hand gently in his own. It was a risky move, if anyone noticed they'd be in knee deep doo-doo with General Shepherd.

She looked up at him and forced another shaky smile.

"ETA 60 seconds."

Archer looked up to the ceiling, saying a quick and silent prayer. Toad began cracking his neck and fingers. Worm shook his shoulders loose. Roach swallowed hard, clearing the thick knot of anticipation from his throat. Mactavish reached for the door. Royce crossed himself quickly. Scarecrow looked around at them all one last time. Ghost gave Gadget's fingers a quick squeeze before letting go. She gripped the straps on her parachute subconsciously.

"30 seconds."

They lined up at the door, everyone getting the pre-jump thrill. Gadget in the front, Mactavish in the back.

"20 seconds."

Another pause as the door opened, a wild wind bursting through.

"Ten seconds."

Gadget glanced over her shoulder, looking back at her team. "See you at the bottom, gentlemen."

"Go, go, go!"

She leapt from the heli, her heart catching up in her throat. Letting herself free fall at an amazing speed she flipped over in the air once, just for the thrill. Gadget then looked up to see Worm and Meat catching up to her and Roach. Then she looked to the ground. A few more moments and she'd pull her shoot.

Now. Her experienced hand closed around the pull-cord and yanked. The chute opened suddenly and her momentum slowed temendously. "Land-team this is Big-bird; we've got 20 plus foot mobiles converging on your landing location."

"Right," Mactavish said over the intercom. "Gadget, Roach, you two are going to be down first. Get behind cover ASAP and keep a path clear."

"Copy that." Gadget confirmed, grabbing her UMP and glancing through the ACOG sight. "Get ready, new guy. This is where things get fun."

"Funny, every time someone has said that to me since I joined up here I've been painfully injured in some way, shape, or form."

Gadget just laughed, a smile playing at her lips. Then she tugged the tan scarf up and adjusted her goggles.

The moment her feet touched the ground the smile vanished and was replaced with a stoic expression. Roach landed next to her with a clumsy thud and stumbled a bit before regaining his balance.

They were in a lightly wooded area, but would be heading out in the open to help rescue some kidnapped major in a small village just south of their location.

"Get to cover, Roach. They'll be here soon."

The Sergeant nodded, slipping off silently to a couple of boulders that would hide him well and dragging his parachute behind watched him go before moving through the clearing and setting out her personal favorite booby trap. Claymores might as well been her best friend.

Worm, Royce, Scarecrow, and Meat hit a few moments later. She motioned to them for silence and to get to cover. They motioned a conformation and slipped behind trees. Ghost landed silently, giving her 'thumbs up' and disappearing in the shadows of an evergreen. Toad and Mactavish followed seconds after, following suit. Archer hit last, scaling a tree to be sniper support.

The thrill had died off for all of them as they sat and waited silently. They couldn't see eachother and the radios had been switched off for safety. A searing kind of uneasyness settled over all the troops. Mactavish was running through his mental maps of the village. Ghost was fingering his gun, waiting like a coiled snake to strike. Roach was fidgeting impatiently. Archer stared through his scope, wanting to be able to spot the enemy without being taken by surprise. Toad was shaking his shoulders out and shifting his weight from foot to foot. Royce glanced around nervously, senses heightened to the extreme. Worm tightened his gloves again. Gadget cracked her neck, totally ready and letting her previous doubts slide off of her without a second thought.

Then the claymores went off. As one the team jumped up from their hiding places and open fired, mowing through the attackers without any trouble. The radios were reconnected.

"Let's move!" Mactavish shouted and they all moved forward.

Everyone felt more comfortable after the first wave, totally ready to take on the enemy that was waiting. They made it to their first checkpoint without much trouble. But the moment the village was in view bullets were everywhere, flying just above the squads heads.

"Frag out!" Worm shouted pulling the pin on a hand grenade and hurling it towards the enemy forces.

"Keep pushing, we have to get through!" Ghost yelled over gunfire and the explosion of the hand grenade.

Gadget was almost thriving in the rough battle. It seemed almost simple. Shoot one after the other. When you get a moment, check your corners; when your teamates. Shoot again. Reload and check your team at the same time. Sweep up what you missed. Keep shooting. She wondered if there was something wrong with her. Why did she feel so alive when the adrenalin was pumping and fear of the unknown was there? Her fingertips tingled with energy as she took aim again. It didn't thrill her that she could kill… it thrilled her to know she was alive.

Roach wasn't having so much fun. While the others fought with conciderable ease he still struggled a bit. As a gunny back in his own unit he was usually just there to be availible… here he was trying to stop a VIP from being murdered. Swallowing again he took careful aim and popped some poor souls head off. It wasn't that he was afraid. It was just that he was still fresh, still getting used to the idea.

Worm's hands were shaking a bit as he popped some smoke in the line of fire, blinding the enemies. Aiming down his thermal scope, he picked off six targets. He tried not to think of all that was at risk. Everyone that was important to him in life was being shot at. He resisted the urge to check on all of their positions and shot some a-hole with an RPG. He wasn't all that worried about himself, he could take care of that much. It was his team mates that were under far lighter cover that concerned him.

Royce was straight faced and calm. No emotion betrayed his features as he fought. No concern. No fear. No hesitation. It was as if a machine had taken the place of the big teddy-bear-ish guy named Royce. Nothing was on his mind but the objective. He didn't think of the family he loved so much back home. He didn't think about the risk. Those things mattered, of course, but he just didn't think or feel. All that there was, was that objective; to get out alive and get the VIP. It wasn't because he was heartless; it was because he had so MUCH heart.

Meat found himself in a similar position. With each thought he blocked all emotions. These were_** human beings **_he was shooting down for Christ-sakes. People with family and friends and futures and pets and who spent twelve years in school and had history and futures! He didn't think about it at all as he shot down more and more of them. It wasn't because he was a coward; it was because he knew he had to so he could protect what he loved.

Scarecrow hardly kept his heart-rate under control as best he could as he dashed from one place of cover to the next. So much adrenaline was in his system he felt like he was going to explode. He typically became this way on a mission. His heart pounding up against his throat. His palms sweaty with anticipation. His eyes taking in everything at an incredible rate, working with his mind to move the rest of him without much conscious effort at all. Truthfully, it was as if he was on auto-pilot; watching as someone else moves his body for him, making the descisions and calling the shots were out of his personal power. He was fine with that. Didn't mind stepping out for a while if it meant he didn't have to take the lives of others. It wasn't that he wasn't in control; it was that he didn't WANT to be.

Ghost panted a bit as he peaked out from behind his cover. A sniper took another pot-shot at him and he ducked down again. His mind was going into over-ride, making up plans faster than he could put them to action. Possibilities flashed before his minds eye far too quickly for him to think clearly. Finally, it all clicked with extreme clarity. Yes, that would work nicely. He moved with almost cat-like grace as he swooped out from behind the rock and into the open. Three shots had the sniper down and out for the count. Six more and three other men were dead on the ground. Then he swiveled on one heel so he ended up behind a thick evergreen, masked by its wide boughs. It wasn't that he was **awesome**…

_Actually…maybe __**it was**__._

Toad was clinging to his upper right arm, hissing with pain as he fell to the ground in a heap. Luckily, the bullet missed his bone. Unluckily it meant he had to call in the medic. He debated whether or not he really needed to, only to have his thoughts cut off when a few more bullets whizzed by the moment he reached for his fallen pack. Lifting the radio slightly, he called in his injury and was told that the medic would be dropped 100 meters from his position and would make their way to him. Until then, he'd just have to hold out. Sighing, he brought out his Intervention and took careful aim at one of the distant enemies who was aiming at Archer's position in a tree. Exhaling as he squeezed down on the trigger, he made a perfect head-shot. Sniping was as natural as breathing to him, even in a high stress situation like this. He managed to keep his head, no matter what. It wasn't that he was immune to pain; it was that he was a capable sniper.

Archer was fairing far better. Only one person had spotted him and Toad had taken care of that. From his perch he picked off anyone who came too close to his friends. Only one bullet, only one kill. Simple as that. Unlike most of the team, he rarely came back to base injured. Every now and then some fool would get lucky and hit him, but it usually was just absorbed by the Kevlar. If he ever saw someone taking aim at him, he easily picked them off without a second glance. It wasn't that he was invincible; it was that he was observant.

Mactavish finally took the lead and broke cover, urging the team to follow. They did all creating a semi-circle and covering eachothers backs. Archer stayed behind to guard Toad and the medic as the others all surged onwards, towards the objective. They managed to get in and get out with the VIP slung safetly over Meat's shoulders. All was going fine until Roach was hit in the side with a lucky shot.

"I'm hit!" He shouted, trying to hobble along after them.

"Ghost, Gadget, and Worm, stay and guard Roach until the medic gets here. Try and get to cover and pick them off as best you can. They'll follow the rest of us for the VIP so it shouldn't give you too much trouble. We'll drop a line for you to hook up to when we get back." Mactavish ordered, not slowing down.

The three mentioned soldiers broke away and took down anyone who even thought about shooting at the young sergeant. In about two minutes the medic was running towards them, waving to let them know not to shoot. They were four meters from Roach before the top part of their head was blown off from a sniper shot.

Ghost swore loudly, his mind already thinking up a plan.

Worm took aim and got rid of the sniper quickly, wondering how much longer they could hold them off when Roach was in plain view with no cover.

Gadget was already on her feet, sprinting towards Roach. "Cover me!" She screamed over more blasts.

She bent over towards a very bloodied and shocked FNG who was flat on his back. With one powerful heave she pulled him into a back-pack carry, his arms pulled over her shoulders like back pack straps. With his body weight and gear combined he weighed much more than she did, but somehow she managed to hold onto him and run back to cover in under a minute, easing him back onto the ground.

Worm couldn't hide the shock of seeing the tiny framed Sergeant Major carry the much younger Sergeant to safety. Ghost could, but only due to the sunglasses and balaclava. Roach looked like he was about to go into shock from the suddenness of the action.

"We need that line NOW 'Tavish!" Gadget informed him; not even noticing the other men's shocked expression. "The clock's ticking."

"Right. Two minutes, get ready to hook up."

They could all hear the roar of the chopper's blades as it neared their location. With a few final shots they clipped onto the strong line and were yanked up and away from the Earth.

Once they were all safely out of range there was silence other than everyone's heavy breathing.

"Well…" Gadget panted after a few more awkward moments of silence. "That was fun."

"I told you I always got horribly injured when you guys brought up fun!" Roach laughed wearily.

"I'm not gonna lie."Worm admitted. "I'm impressed Gadget, I didn't think you had it in you."

Another nervous laugh rippled through the group.

"Wait…what happened?" Toad asked curiously.

Now everyone laughed and the injured sniper flushed.

"What? What did I miss?"

"Gadget just went Super Hero on us and rescued bug's rear end for him." Worm pointed out.

Royce and Meat started pulling the dangling half of the team up and into the heli.

"Well… Our medic is gone." Gadget sighed once she was safetly inside the pave-low. She helped Roach in, whose face was contorted with pain, and laid him down on the floor. Grabbing the medical pack on the floor near them she took off his vest and jacket, rolled up his shirt, and got to work.

Lining up the equipment she'd need; gauze, bandages, painkillers, antiseptic, and gloves among them; and examined the wound. "The bullet's still in there." She muttered, exchanging her field gloves for the medical ones.

Gadget gave Roach some painkillers and cleared the wound with the antiseptic. Using her fingers, she gently coaxed the bullet out of his skin. It was tedious work and required patience and precision. The other men watched silently from their seats around the pave-low. Gadget's eyes were fastened on her work, never looking up.

After about twenty minutes and a lot of blood she managed to pull the bullet out. There was a collective sigh of releif as she dropped it into a Ziploc. Roach relaxed a bit, knowing that the metal was out of his system was a relief.

As she cleaned the wound again, she muttered, "It's near impossible to kill a roach, eh?"

The patient laughed quietly as she began closing the wound up. Then she pulled off the bloodied gloves and placed them in the Ziploc too. Then she sat back on her heels and looked over her work.

A neat row of only a few stitches held Roach's side together nicely. He'd need to take it easy for a day or two, but would be right as rain soon after that.

"You'll be fine just as long as you aren't pregnant." Gadget teased, cracking a wide smile.

After that everyone loosened up, talking and poking fun at one another; all thrilled to be alive and slightly shaken by the events of that day.

But there would be time to cope after the ride home.

**I couldn't resist the part about Ghost in there ;D it's true he **_**is**_** awesome.**

**One last chappie and then a new one-shot. Probably gonna be either a Ghost/Gadget one-shot or an Archer/Gadget one-shot. Review to vote for which. **

**Also, any ideas for one-shots? I'm gonna do a few more before moving on to my next big project which will encompass the events of MW2 and the beginning of *SPOILER**SPOILER* World War 3!*SPOILER**SPOILER***

**Please review **

**I need help. **

**0.o'**


	3. Coming Home

Exhaustion is all that seems to make sense to the sniper as he stumbls towards the barracks.

The squad has finally gotten home and had split up to go get some rest. Though not all of them head straight for bed, Archer does. He wouldn't do anything until he'd slept for a few solid hours. He'd just go to his bunk, ly down and sleep off the post-mission jitters. It was a simple thing to do.

Just roll over and sleep it off. Better than trying to find something else to do and waste the small amounts of energy he has left. It was endearing to know that after all the hard work and strenuous travel was over he could just go and lay down without interupption.

Archer falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow…

* * *

Toad wasn't so eager to be in bed.

After being injured in the fray of the latest mission he was confined to one of the medical cots in the infirmary. That was okay though, Gadget had loaned him her satelite phone for a while.

He calls up his girlfirend, let's the phone connect, let's the line ring once, and then hangs up. A small part of him kept telling him that it's pointless and stupid to keep calling her a month after she's broken up with him, but he trys to convince himself that she just doesn't know it was him calling to let her know he was okay.

He always wants to believe that she still cares.

Even though she never answers the phone when he calls, he just wants to think that she still wants to know he's alive…

* * *

Royce leans back in a chair in the rec room, slowly going over each kill in his mine.

The machine has fallen away to the human being with emotions and hopes and dreams and a concious. No matter how hard he tries his mind just wanders back to an enemy hitting the ground, smattered with blood; a frag taking out several foot mobiles; a swift motion with his knife and another enemy fell.

Several times he goes through each kill of that mission. Each presents itself with unsettling clarity. The emotions he'd so carefully locked up during battle were suddenly free. He feels as though he's going to fall apart with pain and guilt of ending another human's life. He covers his face in his hands and closes his eyes.

Then he reminds himself of his family back home, of his country, of his friends, of his team, of all the reasons he killed that day…

And everything comes back together…

* * *

Worm takes to the training room.

While everyone else is exhausted from that day's effort he finds himself even jitterier than before. After all that adrenaline and excitement he just can't let himself stop right away.

So, he practices. His time has improved greatly, but it's his accuracy that he is now worried about. The day had brought about some sloppy shots that needed work. Setting up the exercise and loading a 9mm Worm reminds himself that prescision could make or break a shot. Screw speed and ferocity.

A headshot or chest shot could take time to line up, but it was better than spending five bullets to take down one enemy…

* * *

Roach taps his pencil against the notepad in front of him.

He'd gone off to a quiet place to think and write home, but all he's doing at the moment is thinking. He can't really tell his parents what happened. They'd freak if they knew he'd gotten shot. Making up a story would work, but Roach had never been a creative person.

To add to his problems, his side continues to throb painfully. He is tired, sore, and a bit irratable from the long trip, not to mention still aghast at being alive.

After all of the near death experiences his parents didn't even know about a single one.

And Roach fully intends on keeping it that way…

* * *

Meat flips another page to the newspaper and reads the column on another terrorist strike.

It seems like he's just reading the weather now that they happen every week or so recently. With his mind so occupied, Meat could put off dealing with the emotional strain of the mission until he was ready. No need to rush head-first into facing the issue.

Another turn of the page showed a group of soldiers helping a small Afghanian family get supplies. Lucky buggers. They had the easy job. Smile for the camera and help the locals.

Meat shakes his head and skims over the article, not at all interested.

Just another publicity thing that the government did to cover up for some massacre in Jordan or a bomb threat in Iraq…

* * *

Ghost's pencil flies across the paper, writing down notes on the mission.

He's done this a thousad times over. Every time they'd return he'd snatch up his old battered notebook and jot down the high-lights of the mission. Today he wrote three sentences on Gadet's daring rescue.

He never wrote very much, just enough to keep the whole thing in his head. He'd started the notebook back when he first left the SAS for the Task Force. Since then, he'd recorded more missions than he could count and more than he would care to read through. But still, it was nice to put it all down on paper. It was sentimental really, just to prove to himself that it all really did happen.

Ghost reads over the sheet and closes the notebook.

Examining the cover, he recalls how Gadget had saved it for him on her first mission…

* * *

Scarecrow stares at the sky.

It's so beautiful…so peaceful. The birds fly overhead, free and without worry for the fighting world beneath them. He wonders if it ever even occurred to them that war was threatening to erupt at any moment. He wonders if they every worry about the humans who fought so hap-hazardly.

What do they think of the way the world works? Do they even care? Why would they care, even if they could? Why would a few free crows give a crap about a dying soldier? They would still fly through the sky the next day. No harm was done to them. No foul was thrown their way.

Sure, nature would take them from the Earth some day, but that didn't change that they didn't have to fear for their lives, their friend's lives, and their country because of a few quarelling commanders from different governments.

It wasn't fair that he had to worry about all of these things and try to deal with it while a robin somewhere was digging up worms…

* * *

Gadget's been woken from another nightmare.

They come every night now, like some kind of terrible omen or something. She shrugs off the fear and pulls a hoodie on over her tank top and tugs on a pair of shorts. Leaving the barracks and heading for the roof she keeps herself from breaking down just yet.

The very moment her feet are on the hard concrete of the infirmary roof she let's the emotional walls down. She doesn't cry; that would just be demeaning. She just loses it.

It starts with her fingers as she reaches up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. They shake violently. Then her hands begin to follow suit, then her arms and shoulders and even her lungs begin to shiver. It's not cold at all.

It's not even a little cool yet.

Her legs threaten to give out due to the tremors as Gadget fights the urge to run back to her room and collapse. She recalls the time she did that and Shepherd spotted her walking slowly towards her room, shaking like a leaf.

He'd reported it! That_ Nancy_ had written on her file 'Shakey'. As a 'shakey' sniper she was supposedly incompetant and unfit for battle. **UNFIT FOR BATTLE!** That meant she was supposed to be sent home and given counseling like some kind of screwed up war-loon. She was just lucky that Mactavish had stopped the whole thing before she'd been plucked from the 141.

They did not need a '_shakey_' sniper on the elite force…

* * *

**[FIN]**

**I AM NOT HAPPY WITH THIS ENDING! D:**

**I wanted to do something completely different, but then I was attacked by a bunch of new ideas that just had to be used ASAP. While putting them into my idea book, the whole plan I had for this chapter was wiped from my mind.**

**But I digress.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, and I still need votes on the whole Ghost vs. Archer one-shot thing. I'll do both, but I need to chose which one to do first.**

**See you soon**

**Emily 'Gadget' Robins**


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